


moonstruck

by halfaday



Series: doyu drabbles [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Bloodbending, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, W.I.T.C.H AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26283409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfaday/pseuds/halfaday
Summary: In-between teaming up to save the world and hating each other, Dongyoung likes to pretend they make it work.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Series: doyu drabbles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906981
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	moonstruck

**Author's Note:**

> a w.i.t.c.h au but set during university days. dongyoung is the water guardian, yuta the earth guardian. (jaehyun is fire and taeyong is air; johnny is the heart of Kandrakar.)

Yuta's lips taste like the bar of chocolate he had right before they settled on his bed — they taste _nice,_ intoxicating, and the loss of them against his own has Dongyoung moaning in despair.

'It's a ringtone,' he groans, leaning his head back against his headboard. 'And this isn't even the first time you hear it, why can't you simply block it out and keep on going?'

'Because,' Yuta says, wiping his mouth on his sleeve like the disgusting caveman he is, sitting up so that Dongyoung knows he's serious about not kissing him again, 'I can't bear to listen to one more second of this goddamn song. I don't care about her ex, I don't care about what she's doing to get him back - and it's Youngho calling.'

Youngho. Dongyoung moans, again — curses himself for ever attending his _after-school snack party_ one year ago. If it weren't for him, he wouldn't be astral dropping more than he sleeps, going through portals every three hours to stop the world from falling apart, and kissing Nakamoto Yuta. _Especially_ kissing Nakamoto Yuta. It's all his stupid fault, Seo Youngho and his fairy grandmother. It's all _their_ fault, Lee Taeyong and his stupid introspection on last year's Halloween, that led Dongyoung to wonder, _is it normal to control water?_ Jeong Jaehyun and his stupid belief that _being different together is better than being alone._ Nakamoto Yuta and his stupid desire to kill off his plants, his stupid eagerness to talk to him anywhere at anytime, his stupid smile and his stupid laugh, his stupid way of making people orbit him, his stupid lips and his stupid -

'Youngho, hey. Yeah, it's Yuta, but don't worry, Dongyoung's right here. Study session, you remember? Yeah. No, of course not! That's something for the man himself to handle.'

Dongyoung doesn't have the time to glare at Yuta — barely registers his words before his own phone is thrust into his hands, and Yuta, in true caveman (brute) fashion, deserts his lap without even a touch, without even a thanks. That'll teach him, Dongyoung thinks as he puts his phone to his ear, that'll teach him, to make out with boys he hates; boys who call him a know-it-all, but who are stupid enough to admit out loud they think his water-bending is hot; who are stupid enough not to know how to solve an equation, but still ace social studies on the side; and who, when their tongues are not shoved down his throat, make very good points when it comes to class inequality and -

'Yeah, Dongyoung, so, are you here? The Force is telling me you aren't listening.'

Dongyoung sighs as quietly as he can, straightens himself up.

'It's not the Force,' he says, for the nth time since this entire thing started. 'It's the Quintessence.'

'My Quintessence. So the Force,' Youngho replies, just like he always does when Dongyoung mentions his power's actual name. Dongyoung can picture him, lying in his bed with a huge grin on his face, like he won an oscar instead of a dumb argument that's been going on for one year. Stupid. Stupid Seo Youngho and stupid heart of Kandrakar. One day, Dongyoung will sue him for ruining his early twenties.

'Whatever. Why are you calling? It's nine.'

'Busy night?'

Dongyoung ignores the clear sarcasm, ignores the part of himself that craves to cackle loudly at Youngho and his belief that this is the wittiest he’s ever been, because obviously Yuta and Dongyoung can't be around each other without trying to murder one another. Joke's on you, Youngho. They've moved past that stage, and have reached the point where they confess their hatred through kisses and caresses. Dongyoung _can_ be around Yuta, most definitely — he's very fine with it, actually, along with many other Yuta things the others have never heard about. But that's a secret — something Dongyoung will take to his grave.

'If by that you imply that Yuta is having a hard time understanding trigonometry, then bingo.'

At his left, by his desk-turned-plant-shrine, Yuta flips him off. Dongyoung pretends he's part of his wall, and turns around.

'Why are you calling?' he asks, this time less snappy, more seriously. Youngho usually never calls — unless there's trouble, of course.

And _of course:_ today is no exception. 

'Jaehyun got attacked, Dongyoung. He was in the bathroom of the inn when a portal opened, and… _something…_ tried to kill him.'

Dongyoung breathes in, focuses on Youngho's wording. _Attacked._ Level two words. So nothing serious: only mild physical damages, and probably emotional scars. Nothing they haven't seen before — the usual.

And yet -

'Is he okay?'

Dongyoung sits up, glances at Yuta — finds him already staring, and shakes his hand, silently tells him not to worry. _Jaehyun,_ he mouths, _level two._

 _All good?_ Yuta asks with a sign of his hand.

'Yeah, don't worry. I portaled him as soon as I felt something from him. He's currently lying on the couch of the library, Taeyong is taking care of him. It's good.'

Dongyoung nods — and on the plant shrine, his oldest cactus blooms. Yuta bows in apology.

'Do we need to come?'

'Yeah. 'Tis the reason I'm calling, actually. The situation requires an urgent meet-up.'

Dongyoung closes his eyes, regrets ever asking the question. Regrets never putting his phone on silent throughout his entire life, and ending up here, powerful but Yuta-less. He rubs his face, pretends these aren't expected, but heartbreaking news.

'Got it,' he says. 'Can we be there in thirty minutes?'

'Make it twenty if you can.'

'That important?'

'It's pouring outside.'

Dongyoung almost swears out loud — keeps the stream of curses running through his mind to himself, and instead grips his sheets tightly, imagines they're Youngho and begging for a help he'll _never_ grant them.

 _Everything okay?_ Yuta mouths. Dongyoung grips his sheets tighter.

'Got it,' he says, burning to take all his time. Stupid Youngho and his inability to check the weather forecast. 'Don't be surprised when I accidentally bend your blood instead of your clothes.'

An audible gulp at the end of the line — a snort from Yuta. Dongyoung ignores him — pretends the implication doesn't do anything to his weak heart.

'Dongyoung, I'm not- in that case, I'm just, you know, asking for a change-'

'I'm joking, I know,' Dongyoung waves his hand, as if Youngho could somehow see him. (Dongyoung is sure he can, if he tries hard enough.) 'Be there in thirty. Or less. Only time will tell.'

'Thanks. See you.'

Dongyoung flips his phone shut, and lays it on his bedside table — gets approximately two seconds of silence, before Yuta sinks back onto his lap, and into whatever mood he's usually in (the loud, bragging, very annoying one), and taunts him.

'Blood-bending? Did I hear that right? Did I hear you say you'd attempt it on Youngho?'

'Oh my god, shut up.'

Dongyoung tries to shove him off his lap — fails spectacularly, and is stuck under him, blushing like a teen whose love letters were just read out loud in front of the entire class. A mortifying experience: Yuta doesn't even allow him to hide his face, grabbing his wrists and holding them against his chest.

Stupid Youngho. It's all his fault.

'Yuta, no.'

'Dongyoung, yes.'

'No. Not at all.' Dongyoung attempts to stand up — is met with another failure, and lies down to cope with it. This is his tragic fate: bound to happen, and hurting every step of the way. He truly hates it. 

'Yes.' Yuta bends down, becomes 75% of his sight. Also a tragic happening — or not. Yuta Does look nice — especially like this, with his hair tied up in a low ponytail, a few strands tucked behind his ears, and his dangly earrings flirting with gravity — with his large tee-shirt allowing his skin to peek out, and his entire attention on Dongyoung — dark eyes looking intently at him, and his usual shit-eating grin replaced with a lopsided smirk Dongyoung is even more familiar with.

Ah. Tragedy.

'If I try hard enough to connect with the earth, I'll hear your heartbeat through your house's foundations, you know.'

Dongyoung's cheeks get warmer, make a very great impression of Jaehyun's imitation of a campfire. But the cheeks do not define the man: Dongyoung's mind remains as fresh as an absolute zero cucumber, does not give in at all.

'I'm glad you've got a better grasp on your power than on anything mathematical, Yuta. I, too, could — _will —_ actually catapult you against my wall if you don't let me go.'

Yuta snickers. Upgrades from caveman to absolute pest.

'No, you won't.'

'Yes, I will. Yuta, what do you think I've been doing the past year? My entire life? Ignoring the water, _my_ water? Stupid- If you think I haven't been working my ass off - I could summon a tsunami, right there and then, and blast you into oblivion, so skillfully Kandrakar wouldn't even remember they hired you. Our friends are in _danger,_ Yuta, now if you'll just allow me to-'

'Liar. You can't summon a tsunami.'

Dongyoung exhales, loudly — wishes he _could,_ dearly, and make Yuta eat his words in-between two dangerous intakes of water.

'I will be able to in a few years. And when that fucking happens, Nakamoto Yuta -'

'You'll kill me and you'll live the perfect life you've always dreamt of living,' Yuta laughs, _laughs!!!!!_ and Dongyoung dreams of killing him, dreams of having control over all bodies of water on planet earth and drowning him in it, dreams of yanking on his tee-shirt and kissing him until he can no longer string two words together. 'But right now, you can't.'

He grabs Dongyoung's left hand and places it, holds it upon his chest, right between his collarbones and his heart.

'Come on,' he says, 'you're skilled. You want me to leave? Do your thing.'

And he smiles softly — has the nerve to stroke Dongyoung's hand, and never once look away — has the absolute nerve to be sure Dongyoung will do as he's asked to do, and even looks forward to it. 

And of course, because fate won't ever be kind to Dongyoung, and will always be more powerful than any tsunami he'll ever be able to summon — he's right.

'To the left,' Dongyoung gives in, shutting his eyes to focus on the body pressed against his hand, to the blood that flows through it. _'Your_ left.'

Yuta obliges him, immediately moves Dongyoung's hand into position — listens to him as he gives more instructions, and never once does more than he's asked. It's what makes him great for practice, what sets him apart from the others and makes him the perfect test subject: he's careful, and considerate — he trusts Dongyoung entirely, and lets him do whatever he wants to do, confident that Dongyoung will always know his limits. He never once pipes up, unless his earth feels something — and in this case, he always, always makes sure to match his energy to Dongyoung's, always makes sure he's not overstepping. Blood-bending is hard, hard work — and Yuta gets it, more than anyone else. It's what elements in synergy do, the oracle would say if he knew — but he doesn't, and Dongyoung is more than happy to ignore this fact, is more than delighted to pretend water and earth are opposites, and cannot get along.

He hates Yuta, after all. With every fiber of his being.

'Here I go. If you don't speak up in three - two - one…'

Beneath his fingers, Yuta’s blood is dancing. It calls to him with a voice more melodious than the ocean's, and cuts deeper than the bath water he once used to practice with. It lives, has a purpose different than any other shape water can take — it wants nothing to do with him, and tries to run away from him, tries to reach the end it is meant to attain. It used to scare Dongyoung, when he'd first attempted blood-bending, on himself — it used to petrify him, and render him unable to remember how to bend, small mortal with a little more power than others, with the ability to fuck up the grand scheme of things. Blood is too conscious of danger, knows when its main component is being called to an uncanny destination — Dongyoung's couldn't bear knowing what would happen to him, fought back every step of the way. Lack of practice, anyone with common sense would say — cowardice, Dongyoung had concluded after yet another unsuccessful try — as he mentioned his experience to Yuta, and Yuta opened his mouth to suggest something.

Yuta's blood is just as antsy, horrified at the closeness of a bender near it — but it knows nothing, is blissfully ignorant, and it cannot fight back with words. It can only sense him, and wish for itself to be abandoned — accept its fate, and let him do whatever he wants. It can only jump, startled, as he takes control over it, and protest - cry out for help - submit. Because blood is blood — blood is his to rule over, and bend to his will. 

Yuta lets out the smallest gasp as he takes full control over him — the usual reaction, along with a gaze Dongyoung is too ashamed to ever meet. It's as if it's a game to him — a game and nothing more, something to brag about if Dongyoung let him speak about it. Perhaps that's what sets him apart from the others, too: he genuinely doesn't mind being his puppet, and even speaks of blood-bending with admiration in his voice — he compliments Dongyoung on each of his feats, and sometimes, when Dongyoung is trying things out, and Yuta is in an entire different mood, even admits that he likes it; that it's _nice, pleasant._ It's something Dongyoung can't wrap his head around, something he doesn't want to understand _at all —_ it's something that keeps him awake, and always has him wonder, in these specific moments, when Dongyoung accidentally meets his eyes, and the air in his lungs seems to disappear -

'Here you go.'

Dongyoung gently lays Yuta against his headboard, then loosens his hold on his chest — should use the opportunity to stand up and do what he's supposed to do, but…

'Good job. This one was smoother. Soon I'm sure you'll be able to do it from afar.'

Yuta sounds, _is_ breathless, and he looks at him as if he were from another world — marvel makes his eyes sparkle, and Dongyoung, tide that never rests, senses attraction — light calling to him, and pulling him in; whisking him away, and never once letting him go. Such an entrancing light, no soul in their right mind would ignore it. Or perhaps they would, proof of sanity and common sense — but Dongyoung's brain lags when he's around Yuta, and when he's like this, bewitched and recovering from bending, closer than he should ever be -

He can never resist him.

Yuta mutters something about having to get ready — gets the end of his sentence kissed away. He makes a startled noise, far from the image he puts on during fights, or even classes, but quickly recovers from his surprise, immediately kisses back. Slowly, tenderly, matching Dongyoung's pace — nothing like the quick, needy kisses they shared earlier. Not that Dongyoung will ever discriminate, but this is, perhaps, his favourite kind of kiss to get drunk on: with Yuta holding him like he's porcelain, and kissing him like he'll never get to do it again — chasing his lips when he pulls back, and linking their hands when Dongyoung accepts his offer; kissing him again, and again, and again. Until they're both out of breath but too lazy, too entranced by the other to fully pull back, to put an end to their session — until one of them sighs a little too loud, or looks up, or dips, and -

'We should get ready. Youngho is expecting us.'

Dongyoung sighs against Yuta's lips, kisses him again — tries to convince himself Yuta is wrong, and saving the world can wait. At his core, he is water — he has no duty to follow, apart from following the moon. 

(But the moon is intent on guiding him back to the shore, and making him the one who leads — it intends to follow him, and does not wish to influence him.)

'Right. You're right.' Dongyoung pulls away — instantly mourns the loss of warmth against him, the sudden emptiness between his fingers, the distance he inflicts on Yuta and himself. What is the point of being a powerful bender, a literal superhero, when all this trait of his does is steal Yuta away from him? It is impossibly unfair.

(It's all Youngho's fault, Dongyoung tells himself as he opens his wardrobe, and looks for clothes the rest of the guardians can wear. If it weren't for Youngho and his fairy grandmother, if it weren't for Jaehyun and his habit of running (diving) (bombing) into danger…)

It's all Youngho's fault, and certainly not his — but as Yuta puts on his coat, and climbs out of his window; as his astral drop waves at them as it closes his window, and he glances at Yuta's hand, hesitates — as Yuta understands, and interlaces their fingers for him — he believes it might not be entirely true — believes it may be his fault, too. The moon has called him home, but has always given him a choice — it has never asked him to follow its lead, and run into its arms. This — following _him_ blindly, and never once looking back — rests on his shoulders. And none else's.

'Can I kiss you?' Yuta asks, tugging on his hand. 'For the road.'

Dongyoung wants to act like he didn't hear him — wants to polish his shield from the pouring rain, and then move forward, never once acknowledge their thing outside of his, or Yuta's, place. He wants to deflect the blame from himself, and find another scapegoat to curse at whenever things go wrong, whenever he's out of line, whenever he's daydreaming, and his mind gravitates towards one thing only — one person only, the same for quite some time now. He wants to say _no,_ and crush Yuta's spirits — crush his own too, just so he remembers where he stands, where _they_ are supposed to stand.

But the tide in him enjoys the pull of the moon, and it likes bathing in its light — it enjoys its warmth, and the taste of its shine on its surface. The water that lives inside him enjoys tragedies, and he has no choice but to deliver.

'One kiss. No more.'

He signals to the hole in his shield, and Yuta waits for him to fix it — patiently, until it is no more, and they stand safe, the rain hitting the screen surrounding them, the street lights reflecting against it, and giving Yuta much more of an ethereal glow than he deserves; than _Dongyoung_ deserves to witness.

Truly — perhaps it's the water's fault. After all, synergy implies being close, and opposites attract — earth is very sexy, or something — the arguments make less and less sense, matter less and less as Yuta bridges the distance between them. They definitely cannot solve anything, and they definitely do not fix everything like Yuta does — they definitely have nothing worthy that warrants worrying about them, and Dongyoung decides to forget them, decides to simply enjoy the gift he's been allowed to savour. It's not every day he gets to kiss Yuta One Last Time, it's not every day he gets to be held preciously again — and though it does not make up for the fact they won't be able to act like this for tonight, for perhaps a few days, even — it is enough for the ocean in Dongyoung's heart to feel satisfied, and calm down again, strong limbs licking at the shore again, embracing the earth for the time being. Where it is deepest, the moon reflects on its surface as the sun rises, and Dongyoung squeezes Yuta's hand as they part, promises that tomorrow, when the sun will set, he will be himself again.

For now — he lets the moon guide him.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/millesoirees)


End file.
